


valet got my car out front

by shirohyasha



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Car Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, PWP, ahahaha rip in pieces ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-10 04:56:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirohyasha/pseuds/shirohyasha
Summary: Ren gives Tokiya and Masato a lift to an event, and neither of them ride shotgun.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tokiya was good to me for his bday scouting so i decided he got to be the one doing the wrecking. hbd babe.

Ren had said he’d give Tokiya and Masato a lift to the venue tonight, so he’s already looking for them when he gets out of his photoshoot a couple of minutes late.

Masato is perched on the bonnet of Ren’s car, and Tokiya’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Masato usually dresses conservatively, layers and layers, practicality over aesthetics when he’s not been dressed up. He’s not dressed like that today.

Tokiya walks over to him. “Hijirikawa,” he greets. “You look different.” _You look really good_, is what he wants to say, but they’re not quite alone and it’s too much of a risk. Masato laughs, a little self-conscious.

“Ren dressed me,” he says. “He said my usual style wasn’t going to be appropriate at this event. Does it suit me?”

Ren always dresses like he’s trying to seduce the entire world and it’s maddening, but Tokiya has at least grown used to it. On Masato, the same style is torture.

“Yeah,” Tokiya manages. “You look good.”

He doesn’t say anything else. Masato has gone a very pretty shade of pink and Tokiya has to fight not to stare.

“Ren just went to buy a drink,” he says. “He’ll be back in a moment.”

Tokiya leans against the car next to him, a little closer than he usually might. Masato is wearing extremely skinny jeans. Tokiya can see the thin denim clinging to his thigh out of the corner of his eye. He's maddening.

“Masato,” he breathes. “I’d have you right now if I could.”

Masato takes a sharp breath in beside him, and Tokiya watches his pale fist clench on his thigh. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Oh.”

Ren appears a minute later, holding three cans. Masato makes to slide off the car but Ren gestures at him to stop, fumbling with the cans and his other hand.

“Stay there. Just a moment,” he says, and gets his phone up to take a picture of the two of them. Masato’s entire face blooms brilliantly red, and Tokiya doesn’t imagine his own is faring any better.

“Jinguji!” Masato snaps, and Ren laughs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says insincerely, and waves at them both. “Get in the car.”

Tokiya holds a hand out to Masato, who takes it to jump down. Tokiya squeezes his hand for a moment before letting go, tips his head.

“Here,” Ren says, holding out two of the cans. Tokiya takes them and Masato opens the back door, and Tokiya slides in beside him before he can close it.

“Ren started it,” he says innocently, and Masato laughs and takes the drink.

“The windows are tinted,” he says, which is as good as an agreement, really, and pops open the top of his can as Ren gets in.

“You’d better not make me crash,” he mutters. Tokiya laughs and sits next to Masato, in the middle seat. “Seatbelts on.”

“Ren,” Masato sighs, and Ren looks at them innocently in his mirror.

“What? Safety first,” he says, and Tokiya does up his seatbelt and waits for Masato to do the same.

Ren starts the car and pulls out of the carpark, setting his own drink in the space behind the gearstick. Masato and Tokiya drink their own drinks in the back, and Tokiya takes Masato’s hand and leans against his shoulder, curls in close.

“I was serious about not making me crash,” Ren says.

“Eyes on the road, Ren,” Tokiya tells him mildly. Masato laughs and finishes his drink, puts the can in the empty seat and reaches across to hold Tokiya. Tokiya adjusts himself as best he can, puts his own empty can behind him and reaches out to lay a hand on Masato’s stomach.

“Masato,” Tokiya says, just loud enough that Ren will hear. “You should dress like this more often.” His fingers play with the hem of his tank top, an almost sheer white that does nothing to hide his figure. Masato is not bulky but he has more muscle than Ren does and the shirt strains. “It really suits you.”

Tokiya throws his leg over Masato’s lap and twists so he’s pressed up tightly to his side. Masato’s hand fists in the fabric around Tokiya’s elbow.

“Tokiya,” he breathes.

“Can I?” Tokiya asks, wets his lips, drags his hand a little lower. Ren groans in the front, a hoarse empty sound that makes both of them shudder. “Please let me, Masato.”

“Okay,” Masato gasps, and Tokiya undoes the buttons of Masato’s obscenely skinny jeans with one shaking hand. He reaches in and pulls Masato’s cock out, strokes with dry fingers.

“Let me,” Masato says, and lets go of Tokiya’s arm to take his hand and suck his fingers into his mouth, works his tongue around them, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he pulls back and licks long, wet stripes up his palm. Tokiya thinks he might come in his pants at the sight. Masato looks wrecked already.

“Okay,” Masato manages. “Okay, that should work.”

Tokiya gets his hand around Masato’s dick in record time and Masato cries out at the first pull. Ren swears, and Tokiya glances to see he’s facing forwards but his knuckles are white on the wheel. Tokiya laughs, a breathy little thing into Masato’s throat, and then turns all his attention to Masato’s cock. It’s full already, heavy and hot in Tokiya’s hand, and Tokiya wishes he had the leverage to lean over and take it into his mouth but he really doesn’t have the space. He presses his lips to Masato’s collarbone, awkward and uncomfortable for him but worth it in the way that Masato shudders, restricted from bucking up into him by the seatbelt.

“Tokiya,” Masato breathes, and there’s a whine in the back of his throat, something he almost never gets to hear and it’s beautiful, and Tokiya is so turned on it hurts. He strokes again, long slow movements that will drag orgasm from him slowly, will take him apart.

“Come on, Masa,” Tokiya whispers. “No one can hear you here. Just Ren. Just us.”

Masato gasps, strains against the seatbelt as best he can but he’s trapped, the belt and Tokiya’s weight holding him down. “Tokiya,” he says, voice breaking on his name. “Tokiya, Tokiya, please.”

“Yeah,” Tokiya says, runs his thumb under the head to hear him keen. “Will you come like this? Ren’s probably so turned on it hurts. Will you let him hear you?”

A few strokes later and Masato is coming, grip on Tokiya’s arm so tight it hurts and his voice rising in a broken cry. Tokiya strokes him through it, holds onto him until he’s finished shuddering. Masato’s head is thrown back against the headrest and there are tears gathering in his long lashes.

There is a moment of quiet, and Tokiya rearranges himself to be a little more comfortable, tucks Masato back into his pants. He leaves his fly undone for the moment.

“Icchi,” Ren says. His voice is hoarse. “Icchi, I am gonna _whip you for that._”

Tokiya laughs, a low groaning sound that belies how aroused he is as well. “How long until we get to the venue?” he asks, and then wrinkles his nose. “Do you have tissues?”

“There are some in the glove box,” Ren says. “But you can lick it off.”

“Don’t be disgusting, Ren,” Masato says. His voice is weak.

Ren laughs. “He’s eaten it before,” he points out. “Or he can go through this very public event with come on his hand. I don’t mind either way.”

Tokiya lifts his hand to his mouth and starts licking it clean. He doesn’t like the taste, per se, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to and it’s worth it when he locks eyes with Ren in the rear-view mirror and sucks two fingers into his mouth all the way to the webbing. Masato laughs, sated and comfortable, and Tokiya finishes licking his hand clean and settles against him. Masato wraps an arm securely around his shoulders, twines the hand of the other with his still-sticky fingers.

“Are you really going to do this event as you are?” Masato asks a moment later, when it becomes apparent that Tokiya is still extremely turned on.

“Yeah,” Tokiya murmurs. “So is Ren.”

Ren makes an irritated growling sound in the back of his throat and Tokiya’s laugh is more moan than amusement.

“Icchi, you little demon,” he says. Tokiya just grins.

“You’re the one who dressed him like this,” he says. “You definitely started it.”

“Tokiya!” Masato protests, all flushed and pretty, and Tokiya can’t help but lean up to kiss at his throat which just grinds him against his thigh, and he bites back on a moan. This is going to be torture. He’s got to get himself under control.

Ren pulls into the carpark and cuts the engine, and the three of them get out of the car. Ren traps him against the door for a moment, quick enough that it could be an accident to anyone watching. “Hope you’re ready,” he murmurs. “You’ve made this hard for both of us.”

Tokiya laughs. “Not up to the challenge, Ren?” he asks. “I’m sure you’ll find some outlet for your frustration.” Ren’s throat bobs, his mouth tightens, his eyes drop to Tokiya’s lips and Tokiya’s sure he’d like nothing more than to _bite -_

“The pair of you,” Masato sighs. “We’re late already.”

Ren shoots him a perfectly pleasant smile. “You’re in trouble too, you know.”

Masato raises an eyebrow. “And I’m sure I’ll be appropriately sorry when we get off work.”

“Unlikely,” Tokiya says. “You’re never sorry.” He nudges Ren aside and heads for the exit. “Come on. We’ve got places to be.”

Ren’s hand lands on the back of his thigh for just a moment as they walk, but Tokiya doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who wants a sequel bc there is definitely a sequel in this


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ask and u will receive

Ren catches Tokiya and slams him into the wall the moment the door is shut behind them, but Tokiya doesn’t have the time for that.

“Ren, no listen,” he says, interrupting whatever Ren is about to say. Tokiya’s sure it’s very threatening and very hot and he can’t afford to be distracted quite yet. “Masato is going to get out of those clothes as quickly as he can,” he says.

Ren freezes. “Shit,” he says, and turns to Masato, who has already pulled the boots off and is about to start on the jacket. “No, not happening.”

“Ren!” Masato protests. “I have been wearing these clothes for six hours!” He’s not struggling that hard though. All three of them know Masato is the strongest and if he wanted out of Ren’s arms, he would be.

“Yeah, and they really suit you, babe,” Ren purrs into his neck. “Come on, leave them on a little longer. For us.”

Masato hesitates, and Tokiya can see in his eyes he’s going to do it, but they’re both going to pay for it. Tokiya saunters forwards and drapes himself over Ren’s back, slides his arms around his waist.

“Come on, Ren,” he says into Ren’s neck. “I know what I did was mean, but can you blame me? Just look at him.”

He can’t see Masato’s face from this angle but he can almost hear the blush, and Ren laughs.

“I do have an excellent sense of style,” Ren concedes. “Hm. I suppose you can make it up to me.”

Tokiya grins against his neck. “Oh, Ren,” he says. “Whatever would you have me do?”

Ren hums. “Tell you what,” he says, and shrugs Tokiya off so he can knock Masato’s legs out from underneath him.

“Ren!” Masato yelps, arms lashing around his neck and making them both wobble. Tokiya huffs a laugh that could, possibly, be called a giggle.

“Tell you what,” Ren stresses, ignoring Masato and heading for their bedroom. “I wasn’t going to fuck you tonight, but I had a better idea. All you have to do is behave.”

Tokiya flutters his eyelashes. “I’ll be a good boy,” he promises, because Ren likes him when he’s docile and sweet. Ren’s eyes flash.

“Good,” he says, and drops Masato on the bed. Masato shuffles back, trying to get comfortable, and Ren goes for the completely ornamental belt he’d been wearing and opens it, slides it free, tugs the ridiculously skinny jeans he’d been wearing to mid-thigh, and folds him in half.

“Icchi,” Ren drawls. Masato is doing a good job of pretending he doesn’t feel exposed but Tokiya knows him too well and can see him getting embarrassed. He blushes pink, the same shade as the head of his cock. Tokiya’s mouth fills with saliva. “Come here.”

Ren takes Masato’s wrists in hand and wraps the belt around them, threads the end through the buckle and knots it to the headboard. It won’t hold him if he really wants to get out but it gives him something to hang onto, if that’s something he wants.

Ren gestures and Tokiya puts his head between Masato’s thighs obediently. Masato doesn’t have the leverage to spread his legs very far so he’s safe from having his head crushed, but he can’t reach much of Masato’s cock, has to lick at the soft skin behind his balls rather than the shaft.

“Eat him open, Icchi,” Ren tells him, and Masato lets out a mortified groaning whine and tries to hide his face in the pillows. He’s being remarkably well-behaved, probably because he does feel at least a little guilty about making Ren go through that whole event with no relief.

Tokiya does it happily. Masato has a love-hate relationship with being eaten out – on the one hand, he thinks it’s unhygienic and disgusting, but on the other hand, he’s already squirming back onto Tokiya’s tongue, and his breaths are coming rough and fast.

Ren hums a laugh and sets about stripping Tokiya. Tokiya is pliant, moving where he’s told to, lifting his arms and legs until he’s stark naked and on all fours. Ren puts a hand between his cheeks, presses the tip of a dry finger against Tokiya’s ass and Tokiya groans into Masato.

“Icchi.” Ren drags the nickname out like it’s something obscene. “I’m not sure you’re sorry at all.”

Tokiya pulls his head back just a little, enough that he can speak. “Well, this isn’t much of a punishment,” he points out. Ren laughs, low and dark.

“I believe I promised something about whipping you,” he says, arched over Tokiya, rough fabric of his jeans scraping against the softness between Tokiya’s thighs. “Would that satisfy your standards for a punishment?”

Tokiya fights to find his voice. “You, uh. You could,” he manages. He licks into Masato again so he doesn’t have to say anything else. The muscles are loosening up, not enough to fuck him but enough that it’ll be easier to prepare him later, if that’s what Ren has planned. Tokiya works his tongue into Masato as far as he can and Masato pants, sharp and shallow.

“Ass up then,” Ren says, puts his hands on Tokiya’s hips and pulls them, higher and higher, until his back is arched and his ass is in the air, and then what has to be his hand lands on his skin with a harsh _crack_.

Tokiya screams.

It’s so obviously not a sound of pain that even Masato laughs, strained and weak, between pants of air. He can’t know for sure what Ren’s face looks like but he’s fairly certain he’s grinning that horrible grin, the one where his eyes gleam and his mouth pulls up at the corner because he knows he’s found something he can exploit.

“Again?” Ren asks, even though this is supposed to be Tokiya’s punishment, and Tokiya nods frantically against Masato’s thigh. The second blow doesn’t come as a surprise so there’s no shocked scream this time, which means the sound he makes is all moan.

“I don’t think this counts as whipping,” Masato says, which is way too articulate and Tokiya needs to change that. “Ah!”

Tokiya puts his mouth back on Masato with as much enthusiasm as he has and Masato growls, strains against his jeans to spread his legs wider.

Ren hits him again and Tokiya shudders with it, moans. It hurts, sure, but it also makes him want to spread his legs and arch back into it so he does, and Ren laughs again.

“You good, Icchi?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tokiya pants. “Yeah, I’m good. Gimme the lube.”

He gets clumsy fingers up and slides one into Masato, slick with cool lube and Masato groans and shudders around it, and Tokiya is free to bury his face in the comforter and bite down. Ren smacks him again and he screams through his teeth, guttural and helpless.

Ren hits hard, fast sharp blows coming down on him. It feels _good_, sparks licking up his spine and shuddering through him. Ren’s hand leaves his ass burning, hot and sensitive and sore. He doesn’t realise he’s sobbing until Ren stops.

“Fuck,” Ren groans. “Fuck, Icchi, you look so good.”

Tokiya pries his jaw open from where it’s clamped around the sheets and tries to say something, ends up whimpering instead. “Ren,” he mumbles. “_Ren._”

“Yeah, baby, okay,” Ren says, runs his hand mindlessly up and down Tokiya’s side. Masato is squirming above him, fighting to rub against something, anything, and Tokiya curls his finger thoughtlessly to give him some relief.

Masato groans. “You are both,” he pants. “Going to be paying for this.” Another pant. “For weeks.”

“Well, it’s getting pretty hard to punish Icchi,” Ren says, grabs for the lube and slicks up his fingers, slides them into Tokiya all at once and _that _hurts, hurts so good that Tokiya screams and thrashes back into it. “You’re kind of a masochist, baby.”

“Yeah,” he gasps, because he really is. “Please,” he whimpers, and Ren gentles his fingers, curls them softly, and Tokiya keens.

“Come on,” Ren says, gentle. “Do you want me to take care of Masa?”

Tokiya shakes his head. “I’ve got it,” he says, because he does. He scrabbles behind him for the tube and Ren pushes it into his hand, and he gets it open one-handed and dribbles it over his fingers buried inside Masato, and Masato hisses with displeasure at the cold so Tokiya bites him, a sharp nip on the inside of his thigh.

Masato laughs, and then he groans because Tokiya has worked a second finger into him and is licking whatever he can reach, worms his tongue in alongside his fingers. He knows Masato’s body, knows him well enough to have him shaking in less than a minute.

Of course, the flipside of knowing is being known, and Ren fingers him open with such brutal efficiency that Tokiya is moaning in an almost constant stream by the time he’s deemed ready.

Ren gets a hand into his hair and pulls, but gently, and Tokiya allows himself to be pulled away from Masato’s slick, open hole.

“The pair of you are such teases,” Ren sighs, and he’s pulled a condom from somewhere and Tokiya has nowhere to hide his moan as Ren slides it onto him in a motion with far too much slick gripping and twisting to be fair. Tokiya’s throat works. “I hope you’re not too attached to these clothes, Masa, because we are about to render them unwearable.”

“They’re your clothes,” Masato points out. “You made me wear them.”

“Thank you, Ren,” Tokiya says, and Ren pinches his side and lines him up with Masato.

“You’re really going to make me do this fully clothed?” Masato pants, and Tokiya and Ren pause for a moment so they can stare at him. He’s folded in half, wrists bound above his head with black leather, leather jacket open and bunched around his shoulders, legs trapped by blue-black denim, hair a messy halo around his head. He meets their eyes head-on, even though it takes him from flushed pink to glowing red.

“If I were allowed to take pictures,” Ren laments, and pushes Tokiya forwards. Tokiya lets out a high, shocked little noise and Masato groans, turning blazing eyes on Ren.

“Don’t even think about it,” he snaps, and Tokiya rolls his hips to see his eyes roll back in his head. “Ren! I’m serious.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ren soothes, and smacks Tokiya’s ass again. “Hold still,” he says.

Tokiya pants, tries to rearrange Masato’s legs so his jeans aren’t cutting into his thighs. He gets them around his knees before Ren’s back, and the noise of relief Masato makes is pornographic enough on its own.

“Ready?” Ren asks no one in particular, and slides into Tokiya in one long push. Tokiya whimpers, because his ass _hurts _from when Ren spanked him, but the ache is shockingly, startling good. He feels used. He feels _owned._ He’s Ren’s, to do with as he pleases.

Then Ren moves, and all thoughts of ownership and submission are pushed out with it and all Tokiya can think about is Ren inside him, and his own cock inside Masato.

“Ren, fuck,” he whimpers, and Ren’s movements move him inside Masato as well, and then Ren is fucking them both hard enough that Masato is moaning too, hard enough that he’s writhing beneath Tokiya and Tokiya won’t be able to hold off on coming so hard his brain melts out of his ears for much longer.

He gets a still-slick hand around Masato’s dick and pulls, and Masato’s eyes fly open and his arms strain against the belt. “Tokiya,” he manages.

Masato bites down on his lip and comes, comes all over Ren’s shirt and yeah, that’s never going to be wearable again and this was totally worth that. Masato’s mouth falls open and his eyes fall shut and he arches, and Tokiya squeezes his cock in time with Ren’s thrusts, draws it out as long as he can. Eventually Masato slumps back to the bed, shuddering, and Tokiya lets go and shoves his hips back up into Ren hard enough that he slips out of Masato, even though he wants nothing more than to stay buried inside him forever.

“Let me down,” Masato pants, and Ren groans into Tokiya’s spine and yanks them both back, hands clamped vice-like around Tokiya’s hips so they fall together. When they land Tokiya screams, for a moment overwhelmed by Ren’s cock slamming into him so hard from such a different angle. Masato’s legs fall down to the bed though, beside them, and he seems happy enough to stay there for now, so Tokiya fights to get his knees underneath him and shoves himself back onto Ren’s dick as hard as he can, grinds down onto him. Ren landed on his knees so a moment later he’s pushing up into Tokiya, and neither of them last more than another thirty seconds at the vicious pace they’re setting.

Tokiya comes without a hand on his dick, clenching down hard enough to set Ren off too, and it’s all he can do not to wail loud enough to wake the entire apartment block. He sobs, collapsing in Ren’s arms, and Ren doesn’t pull out yet, panting into Tokiya’s shoulder.

“Untie me,” Masato orders, and Tokiya leans forwards to do so.

“Sorry,” he manages. “You okay?”

He brings Masato’s arms down to his chest, rubs at them through the thick leather jacket. Masato’s face creases in disgust.

“I am,” he says. “So hot.”

Ren pants a laugh. “Sorry,” he says. “We’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” Masato says, and sits himself up to strip properly. “These clothes are no longer my problem, and you are never dressing me again.”

“I’ll deal with the clothes,” Tokiya says. “If you let him dress you sometimes.”

Masato narrows his eyes. “If – _if! –_ I let him dress me again, the clothes _will _get removed before we engage in anything.”

“That’s fair,” Ren yawns. “Guess I’ll have to go back to jacking off looking at your gravure shoots.”

Tokiya snorts a laugh and Masato swats at them both.

“The pair of you,” he sighs. “Ren, are you ever going to pull out?”

“Nope,” Ren says, and tips them both over. He’s too sensitive for the motion, they both are, and they let out twin hisses but this _is _nicer. “I’m gonna stay here forever.”

“Gross,” Tokiya mutters. “I want to shower at some point.”

“Too bad,” Ren says, drapes an arm over his stomach. “Mine now.”

Masato leaves them in the bed, muttering about being sticky and sweaty, and Tokiya does feel a little bad but mostly he’s just sated and sore and tired. He wriggles back into Ren, who huffs a laugh.

“As bad as each other, huh,” he manages. “C’mon, it’ll be the worst if it dries like this.”

Tokiya lets Ren pull out of him, and there are a few moments where they struggle with the condoms and pull stupid faces at how gross it all is, and then they stumble into the bathroom to bother Masato in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tokiya's true form makes an appearance
> 
> one day i will write something for these three that isn't porn. i have it planned out!!! but porn is easier...


End file.
